by T. M. P. Mahadevan | 1968 | 179,170 words | ISBN-13: 9788185208510
The Advaita tradition traces its inspiration to God Himself — as Śrīman-Nārāyaṇa or as Sadā-Śiva. The supreme Lord revealed the wisdom of Advaita to Brahma, the Creator, who in turn imparted it to Vasiṣṭha....
T. M. P. Mahadevan,
Gauḍapāda, like most of the classical Indian thinkers, lives in our memories mainly through his work. Tradition regards Gauḍapāda as Śaṅkara’s paramaguru (preceptor’s preceptor). A verse which contains the succession list of the early teachers of Advaita gives the names of those teachers in the following order:
- the lotus-born Brahmā,
- his son Parāśara,
- Śuka, the great Gauḍpāda,
- his disciple Śaṅkarāchārya,
and then his four pupils
- and the Vārtikakāra (i.e. Sureśvara).
From this list we learn that Gauḍapāda was the preceptor of Govinda who was Śaṅkara’s guru. The first teacher is Nārāyaṇa, the Lord himself; and the line of succession, which is from father to son upto Śuka, consists more or less of mythical persons. The first teacher of whose historicity we may be sure is Gauḍapāda; and from him onwards we have the rule of sanyāsins succeeding to the Advaita pontificate. With him commences, according to tradition, what may be called the mānava-saṃpradāya in the present age of Kali; he was the first human preceptor to receive the wisdom of the One and impart it to his pupils. Ānandagiri in his gloss (ṭīkā) on the Māṇḍūkya-Kārikā-bhāṣya, says that the teacher Gauḍapāda in those days spent his time in Badrikāśrama, the holy residence of Nara-Nārāyana, in deep meditation on the Lord, and that the Lord, Nārāyaṇa, greatly pleased, revealed to him the Upaniṣadic wisdom. Bālakṛṣṇānanda Sarasvatī (17th Century A.D.) writes in his Śārīrakamīmāṃsābhāṣya-vārtika that there was in the country of Kurukṣetra a river called Hirarāvati, on whose banks there were some Gauḍa people (people of Gauḍadeśa, the modem North Bengal); that the pre-eminent of them, Gauḍapāda, was absorbed in deep meditation beginning from the Dvāpara age; and so, as his proper name is not known to the moderns, he is celebrated by the class-name of the Gauḍas.
Gauḍapāda, after he was blessed with the intuitive wisdom of the Absolute, must have taught those who gathered round him the truth he had discovered and embodied it in a work which came to be called the Āgamaśāstra or Gauḍapāda-kārikā. It is an exposition of a short but important Upaniṣad called the Māṇḍūkya, which is counted as one of the principal Upaniṣads by all the schools of Vedānta. Besides the Māṇḍūkyakārikā, other works are also attributed to Gauḍapāda.
- a vṛtti on the Uttaragītā,
- a bhāṣya on the Sāṇkhyakārikā,
- a commentary on the Nṛsiṃhottaratāpinyupaniṣad,
- a bhāṣya on Durgāsaptaśati
and two independent Tāntric treatises, viz.,
- and Śr-vidyāratnasūtra.
Since nothing definite can be said regarding the authorship of these other works, we shall here attempt a study of the philosophy of Gauḍapāda as it is set forth in the Māṇḍūkyakārikā.
Gauḍapāda’s Kārikā, which is more than a verse-commentary on the Māṇḍūkya Upaniṣad, contains the quintessence of the teaching of Vedānta. The work consists of 215 couplets arranged in four chapters. Following the Upaniṣad, the first chapter, Āgama-prakaraṇa, analyses the three avasthās, waking, dream, and deep sleep, and finds that the Self which is referred to as the Turīya underlies and transcends these changing states. The second chapter, Vaitathya-prakaraṇa, seeks to establish the illusoriness of the world of plurality, on the analogy of dreams, and through a criticism of creationistic hypotheses. The third chapter, Advaita-prakaraṇa, sets forth the arguments for the truth of non-dualism, gives citations from scripture in support thereof, and discusses the path to the realisation of non-duality, called Asparśa-yoga. The last chapter, Alātaśānti-prakaraṇa, repeats some of the arguments of the earlier chapters, shows the unintelligibility of the concept of causality through dialectic, explains the illusoriness of the phenomenal world, comparing it to the non-real designs produced by a fire-brand (alāta) and pressing into service modes of Bauddha reasoning, and establishes the supreme truth of non-duality which is unoriginated, eternal, self-luminous bliss.
The central theme of Gauḍapāda’s philosophy is that nothing is ever born (ajāti), not because ‘nothing’ is the ultimate truth, as in Śūnya-vāda, but because the Self is the only reality. ‘No jīva is born; there is no cause for such birth; this is the supreme truth, nothing whatever is born’. From the standpoint of the Absolute there is no duality, there is nothing finite or non-eternal. The Absolute alone is; all else is appearance, illusory and non-real. They are deluded who take the pluralistic universe to be real. Empirical distinctions of knower and object known, mind and matter, are the result of Māvā. One cannot explain how they arise. But on enquiry they will be found to be void of reality. If one sees them, it is like seeing the foot-prints of birds in the sky. The Self is unborn; there is nothing else to be born. Duality is mere illusion; non-duality is the supreme truth.
Gauḍapāda expounds his philosophy of non-origination or non-birth in several ways and through many an argument. The reality of the non-dual self he first establishes through an enquiry into the purport of the Māṇḍūkya Upaniṣad, Though extremely brief, the Māṇḍūkya contains the essentials of Vedānta. For the liberation of those who desire release, says the Muktikopaniṣad, the Māṇḍūkya alone is enough. The Māṇḍūkya Upaniṣad begins with the equation ‘Om=all=Brahman=self’ and proceeds to describe the three states of the self, waking, dream and sleep, as well as the fourth (Turīya) which is not a state alongside the others but the transcendent nature of the self—the non-dual peace, the self per se. Gauḍapāda makes this declaration of the Upaniṣad the basis of his metaphysical quest and seeks to show through reasoning that non-origination is the final truth.
Viśva, Taijasa, and Prājña are the names by which the self is known in the three states, waking, dream, and sleep.
- Viśva is conscious of the external world, enjoys what is gross and is satisfied therewith.
- Taijasa is conscious of what is within, enjoys what is subtle and finds satisfaction there.
- Prājña is a consciousness-mass without the distinctions of seer and seen; its enjoyment and satisfaction is bliss.
The three, Viśva, Taijasa, and Prājña, are not distinct selves. It is one and the same self that appears as three. To show that all the three aspects are present in waking, Gauḍapāda assigns localities to them.
- Viśva has its seat in the right eye;
- Taijasa in the mind;
- and Prājña in the ether of the heart.
And the three should also be thought of as identical with the three cosmic forms of the self, Virāṭ, Hiraṇyagarbha, and Avyākṛta or Īśvara. It is to indicate this identity that the Maṇḍūkya Upaniṣad describes the Prājña-self as the lord of all, the knower of all, the controller of all, the source of all, the origin and end of beings. The recognition of Viśva, Taijasa, and Prājña in the waking state, and the identification of the three individual forms of the self with the three cosmic forms, are for the purpose of realising non-duality.
The non-dual reality is the Turīya. It has no distinguishing name; hence it is called ‘the fourth’ (turīya). It is the self-luminous self, changeless, non-dual, one without a second. The states that change and pass, with their words and enjoyments, are illusory, products of Māyā.Māyā is two-fold in its functioning; it veils the one and projects the many. Non-apprehension of the real (tattvā-’pratibodha) and the apprehension of it otherwise (anyathā-grahaṇa) . For the Prājña in the state of sleep there is non-apprehension alone, and not misapprehension. It knows neither the self in its real nature nor the not-self. The Turīya is free from both the aspects of Māyā. It is consciousness per se, without even a trace of ignorance. It is unfailing light, omniscient sight. The metaphysical implication of sleep is that it hides the true, and of dream that it projects the untrue. Viśva and Taijasa are associated with dream and sleep; Prājña is associated with dreamless sleep; for the Turīya there is neither dream nor sleep. Real awakening comes with the realisation of the Turīya, with the transcendence of Māyā in its double role of veiling the real and showing up the non-real. When the jīva wakes from the beginningless sleep of illusion, it knows its true nature as unborn, as that in which there is neither sleep nor dream nor duality.
In the Alātaśānti-prakaraṇa, Gauḍapāda teaches the same theory of the three avasthās, employing Bauddha terminology. Waking, dream, and sleep are there called laukika, śuddha-laukika, and lokottam respectively. The difference between the first two is that while in the former there are external objects (savastu), in the latter there is none (avastu); but in both there is consciousness of duality (sopalambha) . In the lokottam there is neither the external world of things nor the internal world of ideas, and consequently there is no apprehension of duality; ignorance, however, persists. It is only he who knows these three as non-real states that knows the truth. For him there is no duality, nor ignorance, the seed of duality. When the real is known, there is not the world of duality.
As a result of the inquiry into the avasthās it must be evident that the pluralistic world is illusory, as the self alone is real. That the world which we take to be real in waking is illusory, Gauḍapāda seeks to establish in the Vaitathya-prakaraṇa on the analogy of the dream-world. Judged by the standards of waking, it will be readily seen that the world of dreams is unreal. A person may dream of elephants and chariots; but on waking he realises that all of them must have been illusory because they appeared within him, within the small space of his body. The dream-contents do not form part of the external world which we take to be real in waking; and so they are illusory. Nor do they conform to the laws of space and time which govern the waking world. In a trice of waking time one may travel far and wide in dream. There is no real going to the place of dream, for on waking one does not find oneself there. Nor are the objects experienced in dream real, for when the dream-spell is broken one does not see them. Because chariot, etc., seen in dream are non-existent, they are illusory.
The world of waking is in many respects similar to that of dream. The objects of waking are perceived as the dream-objects are; and they are evanescent as well, like the contents of dream. What is non-existent in the beginning and at the end, is so even in the present. That is real which is not conditioned by time. Per contra that which is conditioned by time cannot be real. Just as the dream-objects are experienced in dream alone neither before nor after, even so the objects of waking are experienced in the state of waking alone. A difference between the two states cannot be made out on the ground that, while the objects experienced in waking are practically efficient, those seen in dream are not; for even the objects of waking experience are fruitful in practice only in that state and not in dream; and the dream-objects are useful in their own way in the state of dream. It is true that the dream-water cannot quench actual thirst. But it is equally true that the so-called actual water cannot quench the dream-thirst either. It may be argued that the contents of dream are unreal because, unlike the objects of waking, they are strange and abnormal. But when and to whom do they appear abnormal? To him who has returned to waking after a dream. In the dream state itself the contents are not realised to be strange. With perfect equanimity the dreamer may watch even the dismemberment of his own head. We are told that the denizens of heaven have their own peculiarities which to us are all abnormal. Similarly, from the side of waking the dream-contents may seem abnormal; but in themselves they are quite normal. That there is an essential similarity between the contents of dream and the objects of waking may be shown by a closer scrutiny of the two states. In the state of dream, the dreamer imagines certain ideas within himself and sees certain things outside; and he believes that, while the former are unreal, the latter are real. But as soon as he wakes from the dream, he realises the unreality of even the things which he saw in dream as if outside. Similarly in waking, we have our fancies which we know to bo unreal, and we experience facts which we take to be real. But when the delusion of duality is dispelled, the so-called facts of the external world will turn out to be illusory appearance. Therefore it is that the wise characterise waking as a dream. Just as the dream-soul arises and perishes, the souls of waking come into being and pass away. It is the self that posits the dream-contents as well as the external world. The things created in the mind within and those posited in the world without—both these are the illusory imaginations of the Ātman. The difference between the two sets of things is that while the dream-contents last only till the mind of the dreamer imagines them (cittakālāḥ) and are peculiar thereto, the objects of the external world are perceived by other subjects as well (dvayakālāḥ), and are cognised through the sense-organs. Illusoriness (vaitathya), however, is common to both. In dream as well as in waking it is the mind that moves impelled by Māyā, and creates the appearance of plurality. As identical with the self the mind is non-dual; but owing to nescience duality is figured and there is the consequent saṃsāra.
Illustrations for illusoriness are to be found even in the state of waking. Just as in the dark a rope which is not determinately known is imagined to be a snake or a streak of water, the self is imagined to be the world through nescience. And as when the rope is known as rope the posited snake, etc., vanish, so also when the self is known as non-dual, that pluralistic world disappears. Like the Palace city of Fairy Morgana (gandharva-nagara), the universe is seen but is not real. The things of the world are believed to exist because they are perceived (upalaṃbhāt) and because they answer to certain practical needs (samāchārāt) . But these two reasons cannot make them real; for even the objects like the elephant conjured up by the necromancer are observed and are practically efficient but are not real. One more illustration Gauḍapāda gives in the fourth chapter, viz. the alāta or fire-brand. When a fire-brand is moved, it appears to be straight, or crooked, and so on; and when the movement stops, the appearances vanish. They do not really come from the fire-brand in motion, nor do they enter into it when it comes to rest. The patterns of fire that appear with the movement of the fire-brand are illusory; they have no substance whatsoever. Similarly, consciousness appears in manifold forms due to Māyā. These do not come out of it, in reality, nor do they return to it; for they are naught. There is no dissolution, no origination; no one in bondage, no one who desires release, no one who is released—this is the supreme truth.
The establishment of the non-reality of the world by Gauḍapāda does not mean that the great teacher subscribes to the view of ontological unreality (śūnyavāda). We have already seen how in the Āgama-prakaraṇa he expounds the meaning of the Māṇḍūkya Upaniṣad and shows through an inquiry into the nature of the three avasthās that the Self (t urīya) is the sole reality. That this is so Gauḍapāda argues through reasoning in the Advaita-prakaraṇa, and cites in support the evidence of passages from other scriptural texts as well.
The self is unlimited like ether, undivided and the same throughout. The jīvas asre apparent distinctions therein, as pots, etc., produce in ether divisions as it were. We speak of a plurality of souls and a multiplicity of material objects, even as we speak of pot-ether, pitcher-ether, and so on. The one Ātman appears as the many jīvas, as the same ether seems divided, enclosed in the different things. When the things are destroyed, the distinctions in ether too vanish; so also when the jīvas are realised to be manifestations due to Māyā, the self alone remains. There is no contingence of the defects of one jīva being occasioned in the other jīvas or the defects of the jīvas defiling the purity of the self. It must be noted that Gauḍapāda’s theory is not eka-jīva-vāda but ekā-’tma-vāda. Since the empirical plurality of jīvas is recognised, there is not the contingence of the defects of one jīva being occasioned in the others or the experiences of one being confused with those of the rest. And by the defilments of the jīvas the self is not affected, as dust, smoke, etc., present in the pots or pitchers do not make ether foul. Forms, functions, and names differ from object to object; but there is no difference in ether. Similarly, the jīvas vary in their physical make-up, mental and moral endowment, in station and status; but the self is unvarying, formless, functionless, and nameless. Just as children attribute wrongly dirt, etc., to the sky, the ignorant superpose on the unsullied self defects like birth and death, pleasure and pain. But these are changes that are not real and do not touch the self. The birth of the jīvas and their death, their coming and going, do not alter the Ātman. They are not products of the self, nor are they parts thereof. The non-dual reality is partless; it neither causes anything, nor is caused by anything.
Scripture in many places proclaims the non-duality of the self and deprecates the delusion of duality. Through an inquiry into the five sheaths (kośas) that cover the soul, the Taittirīya Upaniṣad exhibits the self as the non-dual bliss, not to be confused with the mutable coverings. In the ‘Honey section’ of the Bṛhadāraṇyaka the principle behind the cosmic elements is identified with the self which is the substrate of the body and its functions. What is without is within as well. The same ‘honey’ pervades all beings. It is immortal, the self, Brahman, the all. As the spokes are fixed in the nave of a wheel, so are all beings centred in the self. Thus scripture declares the non-difference of the jīva from the self and denounces plurality. Difference is illusory; the one appears as many through Māyā.
It is true that in some contexts scripture speaks of creation. Through the illustrations of clay, metal, sparks, etc., creation of the many from the one is described. But this is only to enable those who are dull-witted and middlings to understand the fundamental unity of reality. Śruti declares creation in some places, and non-creation in others. The two sets of passages cannot have equal validity. That teaching should be taken as the purport of scripture which is ascertained through inquiry (niśchitam) and is reasonable (yukti-yuktam) . If birth is predicated of the real, it must be in the sense of an illusion, and not in the primary sense. The self is unborn, sleepless and dreamless, nameless and formless, self-luminous and all-knowing.
That the self is unborn and that nothing else there is which is born, Gauḍapāda seeks to demonstrate through a dialectical criticism of the causal category in the fourth chapter. Causation, like all other relations, falls within the realm of nescience, be cause on analysis it turns out to be unintelligible. There are two rival views on causation which are totally opposed to each other. The Sāṅkhya theory is that the effect is pre-existent in the cause and is not produced de novo. The Nyāya-Vaiśeśhika view is that the effect is non-existent prior to its production. On either of these hypotheses there will not result causation. If the effect is already existent, there is no need for any causal operation; it is meaningless to say that what is existent is bora. If the effect is non-existent, it can never be produced; what is non-existent like the barren woman’s son is not at any time seen to take birth. Even without their knowing the two rival schools, satkārya-vāda and asatkārya-vāda, are thus seen to support the view of noncreation or non-origination.
Of what is really unborn the disputants predicate birth. But this is a flagrant violation of the law of contradiction. How can that which is unborn and therefore immortal become mortal? The immortal cannot become mortal, nor the mortal immortal; for it is impossible for a thing to change its nature. If what is by nature immortal were to become mortal, then it would cease to be changeless, and attain artificiality, illusoriness. But this is impossible for what is immortal by nature. The Sāṅkhya thinks that the unborn and beginningless Prakṛti evolves itself into the manifold evolutes that constitute the universe. But this view cannot be justified by any canon of logic. If Prakṛti becomes the world, it cannot be unborn (aja) and eternal (nitya). Even to admit that there is a first cause is to confess the failure of causation as a principle of explanation. To add to the confusion the Sāṅkhya says that the effect is non-different from the cause. Now, is the effect born or unborn? If it is born, it cannot be non-different from the cause which is unborn. If it is unborn, then it cannot be called ‘effect’, as the effect is that which is produced. And if the effect is produced and is non-different from the cause, the cause cannot be permanent or unchanging. There is no illustration that could be instanced to prove the production of the effect from the unborn cause. If to avoid this difficulty it be said that the cause too is born, then there should be a cause for that cause, a still further cause for that other cause, and so on ad infinitum.
The Mīmāṃsakas maintain that the cause and the effect are reciprocally dependent. Merit and demerit are responsible for producing the body; and the body occasions merit and demerit. The chain of causes and effects is without beginning, each alternating with the other, like the seed and the sprout. Here again we meet with insuperable difficulties. If the antecedent of a cause is its effect and the antecedent of an effect is its cause, then both cause and effect are begun. How can they be beginningless? Moreover, there is a paradox in the very thesis that is proposed. To say that the antecedent of the cause is its effect is like saying that the son begets his father. There must be some definite sequence recognised as between cause and effect. It is no use believing that the two are reciprocally dependent. If the cause and the effect can be indifferently antecedent or consequent, there would be no distinction whatever between them, and to call one a cause and the other an effect would be entirely arbitrary and void of meaning. Now, there are three possible ways of stating the sequence. It may be said that first there is the cause and subsequently the effect takes place (pūrva-krama); or it may be held that the effect is followed by the cause (apara-krama); or it may be thought that the cause and the effect are simultaneous (saha-krama) . None of these alternatives is intelligible. That the cause cannot produce the effect we have shown already. If the cause is unborn, it cannot change and therefore cannot produce; if it is born there is infinite regress. The reverse order too is impossible; for, as we said, it is just like making the son antecedent to the father. The effect by definition is that which is produced by the cause; and if the cause is not there before the effect, how can the effect be produced? And from the unproduced effect how can the cause come into being? The third alternative also is untenable. If what are simultaneous be causally related, there must be such a relation between the two horns of an animal. But as a matter of experience it is well known that the two horns are not so related. This, then, is the crux of the problem. Without settling the sequence, the distinction of cause and effect would be unintelligible. And it is impossible to settle the sequence. In despair, appeal might be made to the illustration of seed and sprout. But a little thought would reveal that these—seed and sprout—cannot serve as illustration. It is only when the causal sequence has been settled that the relation between seed and sprout would become intelligible. Since the latter is a particular falling under the wider relation of cause and effect, it cannot be used as an illustration. It is, in short, sādhya-sama, still to be proved.
A thing is not produced either from itself or from another. A pot is not produced from the self-same pot, nor from another pot. It may be urged that pot is produced from clay. But how is pot related to day. Is it non-different, different, or both different and non-different from it? If pot is non-different from clay, it cannot be produced, since day is already existent. If it is different, there is no reason why it should not be produced from another pot or a piece of doth which are also different. And it cannot be both different and non-different, because of contradiction. Similarly, neither the existent nor the non-existent nor what is existent and non-existent can be produced. It is meaningless to say that what exists is produced. The non-existent cannot be produced even because of its non-existence. The third alternative involves us in contradiction.
It is true that empirical distinctions are observed between knower and known, pain and the source of pain, etc. From the standpoint of reasoning based on relative experience (yukti-darśanāt), there is difference as also causal relation governing the differents. But from the standpoint of the Absolute (bhūta-darśanāt) there is no diffrence and the concept of cause is unintelligible.
Gauḍapāda admits creation in the sphere of the empirical. But creation, according to him, is neither de novo nor transformation of an original stuff. It is of the nature of Māyā, illusory manifestation or transfiguration. The world is not related to the self either as a piece of doth to the threads or as curds to milk. In fact, no relation is intelligible. The one reality somehow appears as the pluralistic universe through its own Māyā (ātma-māyā). The complexes that constitute the world are projections, like the dream-contents, effected by the illusion of the Ātman. Things are said to be born only from the standpoint of empirical truth (saṃvṛti-satya) they have therefore no permanence. Just as an illusive sprout shoots from an illusive seed, all things arise from Māyā.
There are several theories of creation. Some philosophers favour materialistic origins for the world. For example, there are thinkers who attribute the origination of the universe to Time. Theists, however, regard God as the first cause of things. Some of them ascribe to Him efficient causality alone, others both efficient and material causality. The former say that creation is the mere volition of the Lord, while the latter hold that it is His expansion. Some maintain that God creates for the sake of His enjoyment. Others urge that creation is His sport. But how can desire be in God who is āpta-kāma and has no end to achieve? In our ignorance we must content ourselves with saying that creation is His nature or māyā. Like dream and magic it is illusory. The non-dual is imagined to be the manifold world. The latter is neither different from the self nor identical therewith. Hence it is declared to be indeterminable.
The philosophers of the different schools characterise the real in different ways and give their own schemes of categories. Each emphasises one particular aspect of reality and holds on to it as if it were the whole. The self has been variously conceived as life, elements, constituents of Primal Nature, things, worlds, Vedas, sacrifice, what is subtle, what is gross, what has form, what has no form, and so on. According to the Sāṅkhyas, there are twenty-five tattvas or principles. To these, the followers of the Yoga system add one more, viz., God. In the view of the Pāśupatas there are twenty-one categories. There are others who make the categories endless in number. All these theories are but the imaginations of their respective advocates, There is only one self which appears as many through self-delusion as it were. First the jīvas are imagined and then the various things, external and internal. The world of souls and things is an appearance superposed on the self, as the snake-form is imposed on the rope-substance in the dark.
The teaching of creation has no final purport. As has been shown already, what is real cannot be really born. If it is said to be born, it must be in the sense of an illusory appearance. Ordinarily it is stated that, saṃsāra which has no beginning comes to an end when release is attained. But this is figurative language. If saṃsāra had no beginning, it could not have an end. If release is attained, it is liable to be lost again. If the universe really existed, it would be destroyed. As we have observed, duality is māyā-mātra, mere illusion. Removal of saṃsāra and attainment of mokṣa are figurative. These have to be taught in language which needs must relate to duality. When the real is known, there is no duality whatever.
True to its character as an upadeśa-śāstra, the Gauḍapāda-kārikā contains practical teaching at the end of each chapter. The purpose of a śāstra is to enable the aspirant to cross the sea of saṃsāra and reach the shore of blessedness which is the highest human goal (parama-puruṣārtha). The vicious circle of empirical life dependent on the law of cause and effect is evil (anartha). This, however, as has been shown above, is a product of avidyā or Māyā. As long as there is an obstinate faith in causality which is illusory (āvidyaka), the chain of birth and death will not cease. When that false belief is destroyed through knowledge, saṃsāra is removed. The cause of birth and death is ignorance as regards the ultimate truth which is causeless. When this is realised, there is no further cause for metempsychosis, and we attain release which is freedom from sorrow, desire, and fear. Attachment to the non-real is responsible for the illusory wanderings in the wilderness of saṃsāra. When one becomes non-attached through knowledge, one turns back from the false pursuit of the non-real, and, reaches the non-dual reality which is homogeneous and unborn.
The real bliss is veiled and the non-real sorrow is projected on account of the perfection of illusory plurality. Enshrouded by the darkness of ignorance, those of immature knowledge (bāliśaḥ) dispute about what they consider to be the nature of reality. Some say, it is; some, it is not; others, it is and is not; yet others, it neither is nor is not. All these are kṛpaṇas, narrow-minded, who see fear in the fearless, and follow the way of difference, getting themselves engrossed therein. Opposed to these are the great knowers (mahājñānāḥ) who are settled in their wisdom about the unborn, unchanging reality.
The knowledge which saves is not that which remains a mere theoretical comprehension, but that which has become a direct experience. Study of scripture, ethical discipline, detachment from objects of sense and intense longing for release—these are essential for realising the self. The aspirant should learn the purport of the Veda and acquire freedom from passions like attachment, fear, and anger (vita-rāga-bhaya-krodhaḥ); and he should fix his thoughts on the non-dual reality. Gauḍapāda teaches two methods of concentrating the mind on the non-dual, Pranava-yoga in the first chapter and Asparsa-yoga in the third. These are to serve as auxiliaries to the knowledge of the Absolute, methods to loosen the cords of ignorance.
Asparśa-yoga is the yoga of transcendence, whereby one realises the supra-relational reality. Saṅkalpa is the root of activity and bondage. The mind contemplates objects and gets distracted and shattered with the result that there is no peace or happiness. Acceptance and desistance are motivated by the centrifugal tendency of thought-process. Hie out-going mind should be called back and controlled. Controlling the mind is difficult, indeed, as difficult as emptying the ocean drop by drop by the tip of kuśa grass. But it is not an impossible task; only it requires relentless effort. If the mind is restrained through discrimination, the end will certainly be reached. One must remember first that all is misery and turn back from desires and enjoyments. The mind that moves out must be brought to unity. But in this process care must be taken that it does not fall into sleep. When the mind goes to sleep, it must be awakened; when it tries to go out, it must be calmed. When the stormy mind is stifled, there is the thrill of quietude. But one should not revel even in this yogic trance. Anything that is enjoyed must belong to duality; it cannot be unlimited or lasting happiness. The mind must become non-mind (amanībhāva); the relations of subject and object, enjoyer and enjoyment must be transcended. This will come only through the knowledge of the non-dual self. Knowledge and the self are not different Knowledge is the self or Brahman. Hence it is said that through the unborn (knowledge) the unborn (Brahman) is known. Self-established, the unborn knowledge attains its natural equanimity or sameness. This is called asparśa-yoga, the yoga which is pleasing and good to all beings, and which is beyond dispute and contradiction.
The same end may be reached through meditation on OM (praṇavayoga). ‘Om’ is the term indicative of the Brahman-self. It consists of three mātras, a, u, m, and a soundless fourth which is amātra, A stands for Viśva, u for Taijasa, and m for Prājña. Meditation on the significance of the three sounds respectively will lead to the realisation of the three aspects of the self. The sound ‘om’ proceeds from and is resolved in the soundless amātra. Similarly, the Turīya is the absolute which is unchanging and non-dual, but which appears as many and changing. When the meaning of the soundless culmination of Om is realised, there is leading to or attainment of anything; for the Turīya is no other than real and only self. Thus the Praṇava is to be meditated upon and known. It is the beginning, middle and end of all things. It is the lord established in the heart of all beings. There is nothing before it nor anything after it, nothing outside it nor anything other than it. Understanding the Pranava in this manner, one attains the supreme.
Mokṣa or release is not a post-mortem state; it can be realised even here (iha), while in embodiment. To speak of it as an attainment or realisation is but figurative. It is the eternal and inalienable nature of the self. He who knows this is released, he is a jīvan-mukta. Because he has attained full omniscience and is free from the delusion of duality, there is nothing for him which he can desire. He is not elated by praise nor depressed by blame. He does not offer obeisance to any, nor does he perform any rite. He has no fixed home, and subsists on what comes his way. He lies like a non-conscious being, and lives as he likes. Though he has no obligations, his conduct can never be immoral. Virtues like humility, equanimity, calmness, and self-control are natural to him. His is the immortal state which is difficult to be seen, very deep, unborn, ever the same, and fearless. He sees the truth everywhere. He delights in the truth and does not swerve from it. He is the truth.
From the account of Gauḍapāda’s philosophy given above it will be clear that this great teacher was an Advaitin, the earliest known to us—who in his Kārikā laid the foundations of a philosophy which was to become a glorious edifice through the immortal work of Śaṅkara. While making use of logical reasoning and the dialectical method, he does not deviate from the teaching of the Upaniṣads. Even where he employs Bauddha terminology, he takes care to point out that his system should not be confused with Buddhism. While denying absolute reality to the world, he is firm in proclaiming that the non-dual Brahman-self is the supreme truth. He has no quarrel with any system of philosophy because, in his view, all systems if properly understood are pointers to non-duality. While the dualists oppose one another, the doctrine of non-duality does not conflict with them Ajāti or the unborn reality is the final goal of all metaphysial quest.
Footnotes and references:
nārāyaṇaṃ padma-bhuvaṃ vasiṣṭhaṃ śaktim cha tat putra parāśaraṃ cha,
vyāsaṃ śukaṃ gauḍapadaṃ mahāntaṃ govinda-yogīndram athāsya-śiṣyam,
śri-śaṅkarāchāryam athāsya padmapadaṃ, cha hastāmalakaṃ cha śiṣyaṃ,
taṃ troṭakaṃ vārtikakāram anyān asmad-gurūn tantatam ānat?????.
The commentator on the Kārikā says: vedāntārtha-sāra-saṅgraha-bhūtam.
III, 48; IV, 71.
na kaścij-jāyate jīvah sambhavo ’sya na vidyate,
etat-tad-uttamaṃ satyaṃ yatra kiñcin-na jāyate.
I , 17, māyā-mātraṃ idaṃ, dvaitaṃ advaitaṃ paramārthataḥ.
. Muktikā, I, 26.
. The distinctions of ‘within’ and ‘without’, it must be remembered, are from the standpoint of waking experience; for it is in this state that inquiry is possible.
. I, i. eka eva tridhā smṛtaḥ.
. I, 2. See commentary.
. Māṇḍūkya, 6.
Here again it must be noted that the real is called ‘the fourth’ from the empirical standpoint; in truth, the category of number is inapplicable to it.
I, 12. turīyaḥ sarvadṛk sadā.
14. IV, 87, 88.
15. I, 18. jñāte dvaitaṃ na vidyate .
II, i; IV, 33.
II, 3; see Bṛhadāraṇyaka, IV, iii, 10.
II, 6; IV, 31.
ādāvante ca yan-nāsti vartamāne ’pi tat tathā
II, 7; IV, 32.
II, 8. See J. A. C. Murray, B.D.: An Introduction to a Christian Psycho-Therapy (T.. & T. Clark), p. 252; Waking consciousness is, after all a limited affair, narrowed by the immediacies ol the five senses, and concentrated at every moment on but one moving point. In dreams, we seem to enter a wider kingdom, freed from the fears and restraints of normal life, a field where earthly forces and laws are set at naught, and where the whole immensity of the subconscious can have freer speech, and like a rising tide, submerge the petty logics of our daily life.
II, 9 & 10, IV, 63-66.
II, 5. svapna-jāgarite sthāne hy ekam āhur manīṣiṇaḥ . An ancient Chinese sage said: “Last night I dreamt that I was a butterfly and now I do not know whether I am a man dreaming that he is a butterfly or a butterfly dreaming that he is a man.”
Who are also positions of the supreme Self.
II, 29, 30; IV, 61, 62.
II, 17, 18.
na nirodho na chotpattir na baddho na ca sādhakaḥ
na mumukṣur na vai mukta ity eṣā paramārthatā.
Brh. Up., IV, iv, 19; Katha Up. IV, 11.
Rg Veda, VI, 47, 18; Brh. Up., II, v, 19.
Tait. Āt. III, 13, 1.
III, 9, 28.
GK, III, 11-13, 24-26.
III, 14-16, 23, 36.
IV; 4. bhūtam na jāyate kiñchid abhūtam naivajāyate.
IV, 6-8, 11-13.
IV, 15, putrāj janma pitur yathā.
IV, 14-18, 20.
IV, 24, 25.
III, 10. saṇghātāḥ svapnavat sarve ātma-māyā-visarjitāḥ.
II, 33, 34.
II, 20-29. For details see The Āgamaśāstra of Gauḍapāda, edited by Vidhushekhara Bhattacharya, pp. 30-37.
II, 19. māyaiṣā tasya devasya yayāyam mohitaḥ svayam,
II, 16 , 17.
III, 27. sato hi māyayā janma yujyate na tu tattvataḥ,
III, 39, abhaye bhaya-darśinah,
IV, 94, 95.
II, 35, 36.
III, 33. ajenā-’jaṃ vibhudhyate.
III, 31-46, IV, 2.
II, 36, 37.